


Are You Sitting Comfortably?

by bertie456 (bertee)



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-18
Updated: 2007-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertie456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then I'll begin...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Sitting Comfortably?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cullen's BullPen Challenge on ff.net.

_"The early morning sunlight filtered into the bedroom through the thin curtains, casting an eerie light into the corner and causing the animals to stir from their deep slumber. The hippopotamus slowly got to his feet with a loud yawn."_

The doorbell rang and Booth followed the hippopotamus' example as he pushed himself sleepily off the couch to answer it, carefully avoiding the four-year-old sprawled contentedly in front of the television.

Opening the door, he was surprised by what he found. "Bones? What're you doing here?"

She frowned in confusion at his surprise, as though it were perfectly normal to turn up on your partner's doorstep at 7.15am on a Sunday morning, and said, bluntly, "I can't find my pen and I was wondering if I'd left it here."

There was silence for a moment while Booth tried to comprehend what she'd just said, and the narrator's voice from the television drifted out into the hallway, _"...and the elephant went over and hid in the deepest, darkest corner."_

"And you couldn't have called to ask me this?" he inquired in disbelief, deciding to first address the issue of her actual physical presence rather than the apparent national pen shortage.

"Well, I tried to, but your cell was off and it said your home line was busy," she protested.

Booth glanced quickly over to his phone and saw that the receiver was sitting crookedly off the hook, covered with small, sticky fingerprints. Sighing, he wandered into the kitchen, replacing the receiver as he went and leaving the door open for her to follow.

It was only when he stood facing her in the kitchen that he realised he was still in his pyjamas. He glanced down at his loose sweatpants and old wife-beater and saw that not only was he wearing pyjamas, but that they were now covered in jelly from his son's over-enthusiastic breakfast-making attempts. There was an awkward silence as he shifted uncomfortably while she tried her best not to look judgemental.

However, their attention was soon captured by the television programme that Parker was still engrossed in. They all watched as a soft toy monkey, who seemed to be wearing clown pants, moved clumsily around on his strings, while an unseen woman narrated in a cut-glass English accent, _"He checked his pockets again and again, but the poor monkey still couldn't find his nuts."_

"What _is_ this?" Brennan asked, bewildered yet slightly amused by the old-fashioned show.

Booth shrugged, "Some old British show. All the little toy animals get up and come to life early in the morning while the people are still in bed." He looked over at the little boy, who was staring wide-eyed at the monkey on screen. "Parker loves it. Even gets up extra early on a Sunday to watch."

She nodded, "That voice must help. It seems to have an almost soothing effect on the mind.." They both stopped to listen again.

" _... but the tiger didn't know where the monkey's peanuts were either."_

"I know what you mean," Booth replied with a smile. "But I'm really not the best judge. After months of the Teletubbies, I find most things soothing."

Brennan frowned, "Teletubbies?"

He briefly wondered how to explain the Teletubbies to his partner without using language that Parker wasn't supposed to know yet. Deciding that this wasn't possible, he opted to swiftly change the subject. "Doesn't matter. You were saying something about a pen?"

Her eyes lit up in remembrance. "Yes! I checked my office, the lab, my car and my apartment and I can't find it anywhere. I figured it must have fallen out of my bag when I came for dinner here last week."

Booth raised his eyebrows. "Did Dr Temperance Brennan just posit a scenario?"

"No," she shot back, almost defensively. "It's deductive logic. I've eliminated all other possibilities, so that's the only reasonable conclusion."

"Glad we got that cleared up," he said sarcastically, trying and failing to suppress another yawn. "What's the deal with the pen anyway? It can't be the only one you've got."

She didn't meet his eyes and said, quietly, "It's my writing pen."

"Bones, most pens tend to write," he said, bemused, "If they didn't... well, they'd be kind of crappy pens."

She still looked away. "No, I mean, it's the pen that I use to plan my books. I know it's ridiculous to believe that a writing implement can influence the creative process, but I-"

"It's okay, I get it," he interrupted gently, seeing her begin to get worked up. He flashed her a quick smile. "Let's find it then."

They went in separate directions, scanning the floor for anywhere the pen might have rolled and checking under the many toys that Parker had temporarily abandoned. The television noise filled the apartment again.

 _"He asked every animal, great and small, but none of them had seen his peanuts. Then the monkey saw the elephant hiding sneakily in the dark corner..."_

Hearing the words, Brennan and Booth exchanged looks, clearly thinking the same thing, and walked over to their very own elephant.

"Parker?" Booth asked sternly, standing in front of the TV.

Parker's eyes travelled up to his dad's face and he cocked his head, "Daddy?"

"Have you done anything with Dr Brennan's pen?"

"Is that the shiny silver one?" he asked innocently.

Brennan nodded and asked gently, "Have you seen it, Parker?"

The child turned round in surprise, unaware that she was even in the room. He waved happily but then turned back to his dad. "Nope."

Booth crouched down by his son. "Parker," he said, warningly. "Did you put it somewhere?"

"Nope."

"In your little blue box?"

Parker looked down guiltily. "Maybe."

Booth sighed, knowing that Parker had a habit of putting anything that looked expensive and shiny into his little blue box. "Where's the box, buddy?" he asked again, trying to ignore the fact that he'd raised a kleptomaniac magpie.

Parker smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "You took it, Daddy."

Too late, Booth remembered that he had taken the box from Parker to stop him commandeering his entire collection of tie-pins. He just couldn't remember what he'd done with it after that. Standing back up, he ruffled his son's hair affectionately. "Thanks, kiddo."

He walked back over behind the kitchen counter, Brennan following, while Parker turned his attention back to the show.

 _"The elephant had trampled on the monkey's peanuts and turned them into peanut butter, which he now carried in a large pot on his back. But the monkey was determined to get the peanut butter..."_

"Okay, at least we're aiming for something larger," Temperance said optimistically, not especially enjoying the game of hide and seek that the Booth men were playing with her favourite pen.

Booth didn't reply, but instead wandered round the kitchen, apparently looking up at the ceiling. Eventually he cried out, "A-ha!" making Brennan jump in surprise. "Sorry," he apologised, " But I found the blue box."

She followed his gaze and saw the infamous blue box sitting on top of a very high set of shelves. "Why did you put it up there?" she asked, exasperated.

He held his hands up in defense. "Hey, it's not like I meant to put it there!" he protested before lowering his voice, sheepishly, "I was aiming for two shelves below." Rolling her eyes, she climbed on a chair and began to reach up for the box. He stepped forward quickly. "Whoa, Bones, what are you doing?"

She looked down, and spoke, annoyance evident in her voice, "I am getting my pen and going home, Booth. If you want to help, you can hold the chair."

Realising it was best not to argue with a frustrated woman whose feet were positioned at groin level, he steadied the chair without complaint.

 _"...he couldn't reach the top of the elephant, even when the other monkeys helped him. So he decided to clamber up the neck of the tallest giraffe in all the land."_

Temperance stretched as much as she could, but the blue box remained tantalisingly out of her grasp. Lifting her skirt up above her knees, she stepped up carefully onto the hard work surface.

"Bones!" Booth called, concerned. "Would you just let me get it?"

She raised herself up on her tiptoes, holding her breath, "I'm almost there..." Booth too held his breath in suspense.

 _"From the top of the giraffe, the monkey could see the peanut butter beneath him. Bending his knees, he prepared to jump..."_

Brennan inched slightly to the right, fingers catching the box, but before Booth could shout a warning, her foot slid in yet more of Parker's misplaced jelly. Her eyes widened as she lost her balance and toppled backwards off the counter with an involuntary shriek, sending the blue box flying across the room.

Booth moved to try and catch her but only succeeded in breaking her fall as he was knocked to the ground by her shoulder crashing into his chest.

As they lay there, too stunned to move, they heard the woman's voice again, _"The monkey landed right where he wanted to be,"_ followed by Parker's delighted laugh at what was happening on screen.

Brennan's eyes met Booth's as she lay on top of him. He winked at her cheekily and a smile spread across her face as they heard the final words of the story,

 _"And, children, that's how the monkey got the peanut butter."_


End file.
